Blazing Hot Recommendations from the Past Few Decades So Fast You Can’t Even Interrupt M—
Hey.
2022 is here, and there’s nothing we can do to stop it.
But either way—I hope you’re doing well, I hope your family is alive, and I hope you’ll forgive me for this brief public service announcement.
For this newsletter (just this one), it’s all quickfire reviews. Meaning—less nuance, more sharp sentences. Regular programming next time, but hey, let’s shake this shit up.
I’m running a nonfiction giveaway with a friend. If you’re curious, be curious. It’s here.
And before we get to the book and movie recommendations (scroll down past this if you just want recommendations and you’re sweating)—
One more thing.
Life is very, very, very short.
It’s so short in fact that most people have roughly 4,000 weeks to live*—and 4,000 is not enough, too much, or a strangely specific number depending on where you are, who you are, and how, exactly, you feel about average math applied to your very idiosyncratic, unique life.
But one of the best things about life—short as it is—is the art.
Art is beautiful, art moves us, art makes us feel. And strange motivation speak aside, for all the diets and self-improvement projects, the ‘getting-more-money-to-make-me-feel-better-about-my-life’ efforts, the ‘how-do-I-get-my-emotional-life-back-on-track’ efforts, the career we’re mildly obsessed about—there is nothing quite like the purely experiential side of life.
The part of life that doesn’t rely on “I’m doing this because it leads to that”.
The parts of life you just do for the things themselves, for the feeling of it.
In philosophy, they’re called atelic activities*—which is something you should never mention in casual conversation—and they’re the things you just do for themselves, for the thing itself, not for anything else.
Not eating a piece of broccoli so you can look good in front of Sarah. It’s just watching a film, weaving a basket, reading a book because—in the end—life is just a series of experiences.
So: wherever you are, whoever you are—I hope these books and movies spark that idea in you—the magic of experience.
Life is good stuff, and art has a way of showing us how beautiful it really is.
Ok, I’ll shut up now, here’s—
Quickfire is basically a “one-sentence-ish (not really), quick-fire” recommendation list that’s fast, quick, and blazing hot.
Here’s the quickfire list —
1. Family Life, by Akhil Sharma
I can’t stop talking about this book. Potentially my favorite novel of all time.
2. Mindhunter, Season 1
This isn’t a movie? You’re right.
This isn’t a movie.
But movies and television shows are starting to blur, and here—it’s basically a movie, chopped up into a TV show, and Jesus—it’s directed by David Fincher (a few episodes at least — but maintains a consistent directorial voice throughout) and it’s amazing. Smart, fresh, disturbing, more words.
It’s about serial killers.
3. Ex Machina, dir. by Alex Garland
I just watched this again (I’ve seen it, maybe, too many times) and it hit me just as hard now as it did when I watched it in the theater.
It’s about artificial intelligence and the natural complexity that comes with the power of creation—think, a’la Jurassic Park—but the other thing:
There’s a mood. And it just sustains this mood, this sense of unease—with the music, the direction, the subtle screenplay—and you just can’t shake the sense that something bad is about to happen.
At the end, I’ll just say it: you’d be right.
4. Columbus, dir. by Kogonada
Beautiful, slow, contemplative—you get the sense that you’re just watching two people live their lives and yet—it’s like watching a beautiful river pass you by.
Mesmerizing. Takes the everyday—talking with someone, smoking a cigarette—and elevates the hell out of it.
And reminds you: real life is transcendent, too.
5. The Glass Hotel, by Emily St. John Mandel
The book wins for hardest to describe book on the planet.
Because it’s about a few things, but the best way to describe it is that it’s about a ghost story and an international Ponzi scheme and the book kind of halos around those two points until they intersect in strange and devastating ways.
Beautiful — I loved it.
6. Levels of the Game, by John McPhee
Covers two tennis players. I know — doesn’t sound like anything you’d be interested in—but the entire book profiles an entire match (meaning, the first page is the first move of the tennis match, and the last page is the very last move) but the book weaves in and out of the psychologies of each of the players, and the result is that you’re gripped the entire way through.
7. The Departed, dir. by Martin Scorcese
There’s a scene in this movie that, I think, if you’re watching it with friends who have never seen it, it’ll be fun to see how they react. Because it’s insane.
And if you have no idea which scene I’m talking about, let me just say—go watch it, because there’s a precise moment in the film where everyone freaks out, and I’m excited for you to experience that.
One of my all-time favorites.
8. The Beach, by Alex Garland
One of the top three novels I’ve ever read in my entire life.
9. Inside, dir. by Bo Burnham
A stone cold masterpiece. It’s a comedy special, but really, that’s a lie. It’s a film that takes place in one person’s house, with just one person’s lighting and film and music equipment. Bo takes the emotions you’ve been feeling—but haven’t been talking about—and he paints them on the wall for you to see.
Cathartic.
10. Open, by Andre Agassi
If you think most celebrity memoirs aren’t worth reading, you haven’t read Open. Searing, painfully honest, and perfect for people who have never, in their entire life, cared about tennis, this tennis memoir of Andre Agassi is devastatingly good, and it is one of my favorite books of all time. First in class.
11. Mission Impossible 3, dir. by J.J. Abrams
Come on, just go watch if you haven’t already.
12. Collateral, by Michael Mann
L.A. + Jamie Foxx + Tom Cruise + Tom Cruise is a hired contract killer + surprisingly deep premise + actually kind of changed my life + I recommitted myself to living life to the fullest and not wasting a single minute and I’m genuinely surprised / why is this happening = Collateral.
13. Devs, by Alex Garland
When I think of science-fiction, I don’t think of it as aliens, or cool gadgets, or futuristic technology. I think of science fiction as the theater of ideas. If you liked Ex Machina, and you like ideas, you’re going to go absolutely insane for Devs (same director).
14. Burning, dir. by Lee Chang-dong
Quiet unease, the whole way through. Something’s going to happen, everything’s strange, and you don’t know where it’s going to land.
The ambiguity is laid on so thick here that it completely fucks you up—including the characters themelves.
15. Sharp Objects, by Gillian Flynn
Do you want to read the most fucked up thing you’ve ever read in your life?
Did you wake up this morning asking yourself that question?
Fantastic, you should read this.
16. Marriage Story, dir. by Noah Baumbach
I loved this movie so much, and the funny thing was, my girlfriend wanted to see it, I saw the trailer, and had one of those “looks good, but for some inextricable reason, I really don’t want to see it right now because I’m in the mood for literally anything else.” She changed my mind, and I’m so glad she did — Marriage Story is magnificent, and I wish I had more to say here and this wasn’t a quickfire review, because I could talk about it for ages.
17. Spider-Man 2, dir. by Sam Raimi
I know, for a fact, that you haven’t seen this movie since 2004, but trust me: watch it again, thank me when I’m dead.
18. Jackie, dir. by Pablo Larraín
History has a way of becoming dead to us. We see history in lifeless textbooks; aging oil paintings. This movie does the opposite — it takes a slice of time (the JFK assassination) and makes it visceral, immediate, personal, and fully alive. Also, Jesus Christ — Natalie Portman’s work is stunning here. Loved it so much I bought the Blu-ray. Watch the trailer — it’s remarkable.
19. The Laws of Human Nature, by Robert Greene
There are books that you read, and then, there are books that read you. This is the latter: it’s one of the best books I’ve had the privilege of reading, and it’s a book so deep that’ll it’ll take it’s metaphorical hand and stick it right in your heart. If that’s an overly terrifying visual, ignore what I said. Either way — read the book. It’s one of the few books that I’ve referenced constantly throughout the years; a profound meditation on self and society.
Last thing.
Thanks so much for reading. If you were wondering where atelic* and the 4,000* number came from, I got it from a book called 4,000 Weeks, by Oliver Burkeman.
And, because I screwed up the numbering the first time I sent this article, that’s my 20th recommendation. Also five-stars.
And the last last thing—
Thanks so much for reading. Regular programming soon.
While a part of me believes that 2022 is just a number change on the calendar—something feels nice about a change of pace.
I hope you’re doing well, I hope the year treats you well, and, seriously, email me (reply to this message). I’d love to chat.